


when everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am

by little_geek_corner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Finally!, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, anyways i was sad when i wrote this and now u can be sad too :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28731021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_geek_corner/pseuds/little_geek_corner
Summary: There is an important issue, a decade long issue to face. And if Dean heard Bobby correctly (and he hopes to Jack and all things worth fighting for that he did), then now is the time to do it. Things… need fixing. Concluding. Tying up. Reciprocating . Silences need to be overcome and filled. Words need to be said.Dean turns his head to look back at Bobby.“I’m gonna go find Cas.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 91





	when everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am

**Author's Note:**

> Dean and Cas should not have died but i might as well make heaven a romantic experience.  
> Also cas designing heaven is smth that can be so personal.  
> btw the beer actually tastes good, fuck the finale lmao  
> oh and the title is from Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls (such a fucking deancas song)

**_And I'd give up forever to touch you_ **   
**_'Cause I know that you feel me somehow_ **   
**_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be_ **   
**_And I don't want to go home right now_ **

**_And all I can taste is this moment_ **   
**_And all I can breathe is your life_ **

\- _Iris_ , by the Goo Goo Dolls

* * *

_“So, what are you gonna do now, Dean?”_

Dean barely has to think twice. It’s the first thing that enters his mind, hits his thoughts like a ton of bricks and causes his heart to skip a beat. His small smile spreads into a grin. He knows exactly what he needs to do.

Looking around, his eyes find the Impala, and his grin widens. He glances sidelong at Bobby, who’s beaming right back at him. Hands shaking like a kid on an adrenaline rush, Dean puts down the heavenly beer and rises to stand on trembling legs. In a few strides, he’s at Baby’s side, running his hands over her warm metal. 

There is an important issue, a decade long issue to face. And if Dean heard Bobby correctly (and he hopes to Jack and all things worth fighting for that he did), then now is the time to do it. Things… need fixing. Concluding. Tying up. _Reciprocating_. Silences need to be overcome and filled. _Words_ need to be _said_. 

Dean turns his head to look back at Bobby.

“I’m gonna go find Cas.” He smiles to hide the tears he’s fighting back.

Bobby’s eyebrows shoot up, but his smile stays wide and warm and there’s a twinkle in his eyes.

“Well, good!” he exclaims, raising his beer bottle slightly, “But you know you could probably just call for him and-”

“No.” Dean had made up his mind. It’s about time _he_ went to Cas, no more just praying and waiting. “I want to do this properly.”

Bobby regards him thoughtful for a few moments, then nods firmly. He tips his bottle towards Dean, says “Then go get him!” with a grin and takes a long drink.

Dean is fizzing. He yanks the car door open, slides in and practically melts into Baby’s familiar leather. He takes the steering wheel in one jittery hand and turns the ignition key with the other. 

“Okay,” he whispers, and steps on the gas.

 _To Cas_ , he thinks triumphantly. He’s got work to do.

* * *

Heaven is beautiful. Long, wide, winding roads, surrounded by kilometres of natural wonders. The landscape never stays the same. It changes as Dean drives on, rolling and morphing. From meadows to mountains, from forests to fields, from rivers to rocks. _Jack made this!_ The sky begins to darken, and Dean stares out of the window in amazement as deep fiery colours surround him on the road. He didn’t realize nighttime could happen in Heaven, but he is grateful. It adds to its beauty. 

As night falls, Dean comes to around clearing in an area of woods, and his heart _stops_. There is, undeniably, a man sitting on a log at the farther end of the clearing. He’s dark-haired, squinting up at the sky, trench coat billowing in the wind like wings, and Dean suddenly can’t remember how to breathe. 

Dean is out of the car in a flash, only hesitating for a second once on his feet.

“Cas,” he whispers desperately and breaks into a sprint towards the angel.

“Cas!” he repeats, louder, with passion, with a laugh, his legs pumping and his heart pounding.

The dark-haired man lowers his head and spots Dean, is immediately on his feet. He takes a few steps, then stops, waiting.

“ _Cas_!” Dean yells again, running faster now. He might as well be flying, he’s so happy. 

Then Cas disappears.

Dean stops dead. 

“No,” he breathes.

“Cas,” he croaks.

“What the hell?” he growls, turning around madly in a circle to see if he can spot Cas.

“CASTIEL!!!” he yells as loud as he can, pushing his voice from his lungs with full force. 

In just a matter of seconds, Dean’s hopes have been lifted and then immediately crushed again. His stomach twists itself into intricate knots, and he can feel tears rising like bile in his throat.

_This is heaven. This shouldn’t be happening._

“Cas,” he cries out one more time, as his knees start to go weak.

There’s a gust of wind around him, and he suddenly feels a Presence behind him. A hand touches his shoulder, _the shoulder_ , and his breath cuts short, but before he can turn around, he’s whisked away into a whirlwind of colours and sounds and noise.

For a few seconds, he can _feel_ every molecule and every tiny wisp of the essence of his soul. It’s all being shaken around, then he lands on solid ground. 

A wooden jetty, sticking out into a large lake, with crystal waters and trees all along the banks, against a backdrop of dark orange sky. Vague memories tug at Dean’s consciousness. He _knows_ this place. He’s been here before, in a moment, or longer maybe, years ago. A half-forgotten dream. 

Dean turns his head to survey more and-

“Hello, Dean.”

-and the wooden pier seems to give way beneath him and he must have landed into the lake, ‘cause he’s suddenly gone cold and he can't breathe. 

Cas is… right there. Alive and standing and blinking and gorgeous and looking at Dean. His dark hair is tousled and shining. His broad shoulders are drooping heavily. His eyes are squinty, with those beautiful crinkles created by a slight smile, and there's a small glimmer of some emotion Dean doesn’t recognize on Cas. 

Dean wants to speak, but his mind has gone as blank and still as the waters of the lake in front of him. So he just stares. For a few moments they hold each other’s gaze, and slowly the glint in Cas’ eyes fades out. He sighs, his small smile twitching slightly, and looks away, out to the lake. Dean wants to as well. He wants to enjoy the scenery, but he cannot take his eyes off Cas.

Cas, who he’s known for so long. Cas, who’s always been there for Dean, ever since saving him from Hell, _gripping him tight and raising him from perdition_. Cas, who’s sacrificed so much for Dean. Cas, who knows Dean better than anyone else.

Cas, who _loves him_.

Dean takes him all in, letting his eyes venture over every inch of his face. The tufts of his hair, the bridge of his nose, the curve of his lip, the curl of his eyelash, the angle of his jawline, the dip of his neck… 

Cas turns his head and Dean’s gaze flicks back up to Cas’ eye level. Blue. Bright. Blazing. Dean can’t believe he’s real, he can’t believe he's here. 

Then Cas does the unthinkable, the unimaginable, that makes Dean’s entire concept of reality do a 180. Cas brushes the back of his hand against Dean’s, sending an electric current up Dean’s arm and into his chest and stomach. He goes even further, carefully slipping his hand into Dean’s open palm and so very gently closing his fingers around it. He holds Dean so loosely like he’s giving Dean an easy chance to pull away. But Cas has gone and done it and now Dean _never_ wants to let go. He pushes the rising emotion back down, laces his fingers through Cas’ and grips his hand firmly, as if to say _I’ve got you now and I won’t let go any time soon_.

A hitched, sharp intake of breath is Cas’ reaction, and his shoulders rise a little and he stands a little higher. But he still doesn’t look at Dean.

Dean wonders if this is it. If this is what seals the 12-year long mess between the two of them. If this small, singular physical act of affection is what solidifies all the unsaid and unresolved, the hints of longing, the ‘what if’s and ‘if only’s and ‘I wish’es of more than 10 years…

No. The more Dean thinks about it… it’s impossible. There is still so much more to be done. The two of them are still miles away from fixing what had been breaking ever since it was made. 

And yet Dean can’t help feeling ecstatic that he can finally touch Cas like this, even if there is that overhanging of loose ends that terrify Dean.

There is so much to be said. If only Dean can find the right words.

“Cas,” Dean begins, feeling his eyes widen as his mind searches madly, desperately for the words that come next.

Cas finally turns to him again, slowly, and meets Dean’s eyes with a practically blank expression, except for the expectant look in his eyes. 

Dean swallows. Cas’ hand starts to feel heavy in Dean’s grip, so he holds on tighter, causing Cas’ expression to soften, while he holds Dean’s gaze, still waiting for him to speak.

And Dean hates it. He hates how Cas is looking at him, so earnest and hopeful. He hates how he can stay silent, stumped for words, even after all these years, even when he is so close, _so fucking close_ to finally speaking his truth, so close to _Cas_.

He hates himself.

But, he loves Cas more.

If he could only say that out loud. Cas needs to hear it. By God, Dean needs to hear _himself_ say it. 

But he’s too slow. The moment is gone, in the blink of an eye the hope drains from Cas’ face and he simply regards Dean dolefully. Dean swears he sees… disappointment in his expression.

Naturally, it kills Dean. It kills him even more when, with another faint sigh, Cas turns away again, unable to look Dean in the eye, but still holds onto his hand, still keeping that _breathtaking_ connection between them.

“We should take a walk,” he suggests quietly.

Dean has to bite his lip and he can’t ignore the rushing, churning waves of mixed emotions in his head and chest and stomach. He nods, and that’s all he can do. 

Cas doesn’t need to turn his head, and with another gust of wind and colours, Dean finds himself whisked away to a new place. Green, serene, and bright. Happy. The two of them stand there for a moment, still silent, as Dean looks around in amazement. The Cas speaks.

“This was someone’s own personal heaven, once,” he says, with a wistful tone, “back when Heaven was where each person was entitled to their own eternal slice of peace and quiet.”

Cas tugs a little on Dean’s hand, leading him forward. Dean obliges, quite fundamentally shaken by the beauty of his surroundings and the intimacy with which he’s being guided by Cas. After admiring the scenery though, however wonderful it may be, he focuses again on Cas and does not look away as they walk; _hand in hand_.

“When Jack and I started our reconstruction, the first place I revisited was here. I had to keep it, I couldn’t let it be taken away and moulded in with the rest of Heaven.” 

He temporarily faces Dean, and the joyful expression he's wearing sends Dean’s heart soaring into aching wonder, before Cas turns away again to look at the trees. 

“As an angel, a seraph, this was where I’d come to rest between battles. Even when I was a heartless soldier of the armies of Heaven I could enjoy the simple beauties of humanity.” 

He pauses and smiles wider.

“Look.” Cas indicates with another pull on Dean’s hand and an inclination of his head. 

Dean manages to tear his eyes away from Cas’ radiant smile, and spots the figure of a man further down the field, flying a kite.

“His name is Sherman Farrow,” Cas explains softly, moving a little closer to Dean as he speaks, “He died in 1953, and this is his favourite Tuesday afternoon. Endless. Quiet. So much freedom, so much joy, in just one man and his kite”

Again Cas turns slowly to look Dean in the eye, and Dean is shocked to see tears pooling under his blue irises. 

“You see, I kept it because I had to show you,” he whispers, now so close to Dean that Dean can smell his warm, earthly scent. “I needed you to know what kept me happy before I met you. This is how I stayed connected to who I really was. Who I was outside of what the other angels drilled into me, the angel with a crack in his chassis, that you later awoke inside of me, when you told me what’s really worth dying for.”

Dean is shaking again. Cas’ words and the ways he says them causes Dean an immense adrenaline rush. He manages a minuscule smile, while the storms of emotion rage inside of him. 

He remembers. The green room, Zachariah, dreading his fate of becoming the sword of Michael, aching to get out and see if Sam is okay, begging Cas to help him, to realize what is happening and why it needs to be stopped. Asking Cas to stay with him, to join him, to defy all that he knew to fight alongside humanity.

“What is worth dying for, Cas?” Dean asks tentatively, miraculously getting the words out without choking on his own unshed tears. He asks partly to test Cas, partly because he’s suddenly desperate to hear Cas say it, and partly because he himself knows what he needs to say now. 

“Free will,” Cas answers, with a beautiful, excited light in his eyes, “The world. Family.” 

He squeezes Dean’s hand, his eyes widening like they did that night when he told Dean everything, when he was taken- 

“Love.” A single teardrop falls from his eyelash to his cheek and he smiles wider than ever. “And _you_.”

And a seal seems to break inside Dean, something breaks, the dam walls come crashing down on impact flood Dean’s vision. 

“Cas,” he croaks, voice thick with emotion, “Cas, I love you so goddamn much.”

The words escape like flowing water, like the tears running down his cheeks. He can’t see clearly anymore, but he can feel Cas’ warm hand cup his cheek. He inhales shakily, a wonky, teary grin spreading on his face. 

“I know,” Cas says, and Dean can hear the grin in his voice, and he closes his eyes as more tears spill and his smile is so wide it hurts his face

Dean gasps softly as he feels Cas’ forehead lean on his, his heart clenches when he hears Cas whisper “and I love you, too”, and when they kiss, Dean can taste the tears on Cas’ lips, but he can also feel the smile. It’s better than Dean could imagine, and though, even in Heaven, his body aches from the sobs, it all feels so liberating and Dean wouldn’t be so shocked if he discovered he could fly. 

He clings tightly onto Cas, kissing him roughly and desperately and lovingly as if his life depends on it.

* * *

It takes the two of them a long while to break apart, and when they do, they sink to the ground and end up half lying in the grass, pressed up against each other, enjoying the scenery and soaking up each other’s closeness and warmth.

Yes, there is still so much to say. They’re not quite finished yet. But for now, they are more than content to sit in silence and quietly bathe in their love for each other.

  
  
  
  


  
  



End file.
